; adjective; attractive in a pretty or endearing way.

The man behind the register is really cute, Louis notes as he blushes and walks farther into the pharmacy.

When Louis tried calling Zayn again it went kinda straight to voicemail (Louis doesn't like the feeling in his tummy that he gets when he thinks of Zayn ignoring his phone calls). So he had to pull on his big boy pants and walk to the pharmacy down the street. In the windy weather.

"Welcome mate!" the cute register guy smiles and waves at Louis.

Yes, very cute. Like Louis. On some days, Louis is really cute. But on other days, today being one of them, Louis doesn't look so cute. Cute is not hot and handsome, like Zayn is. Cute is what you call a kitten when it sneezes and Louis is not a kitten. Louis is not an animal either. He's a human bean like everyo-

His eyes widen behind his glasses as he limps over to the aisle that holds the item that has caught his attention, all thoughts about cute blonde register boys and sneezing kittens and sickness forgotten.

They had fluffy stuffies. And not just any fluffy stuffies, pink and blue and purple and yellow ones that were shaped like monkeys that were holding hearts that said, 'Get Well Soon.' It would be cruel of him to only buy one pink one, the other stuffies might feel bad. Plus, they all feel so soft and smell like stuffies that were made for Louis to take home.

He picks up one of each color before pulling them to his chest, hugging them tightly. Their little furs tickle his chin and he giggles into the top of their heads.

"Get better, get well soon, my lovely friend or family. Get better, get well soon because I love, I love you."

They sing. Oh goodness! Louis giggles as he looks down at them with an extremely fond look. Looking down both sides of the aisle, and finding no one, he plops down to the floor, sitting crisscross applesauce. He lines up the cute stuffies in front of him; pink, yellow, blue, then purple.

Biting his lip, he pulls the sleeves to his sweater up over his elbows and cracks his knuckles. Checking down the aisle one more time, he quickly reaches out and presses the hand on each of the monkeys at the same time.

The Get Well Soon song fills aisle one and Louis claps his hands, humming along. He sniffles, wiping his nose with his wrist as he continues to rock to the beat.

By the third time around, Louis' quietly singing along. His head is tipped back, eyes closed, and he's imagining a concert. The Get Well Soon tour, GWS, and he was there in the crowd singing along with the other stuffies. He's sitting beside a giant, stuffed, life-size panda bear, on his left, and a tiny, pink, plush piggy.

"Um, hello ma'am. Sir. Person."

Louis' eyes pop open and the first thing he sees are a pair of pretty green eyes. "Oh, hello."

The pretty eyes belong to a pretty face and hello there, Mr. Handsome. The man is kneeling in front of him, one of his large hands cupped around Pepper, the purple monkey. Louis really wants to reach out and touch his hair to see if the curls are as soft as they look.

See, Louis is cute, but this man. He is simply beautiful.

"I was told there was a disturbance in aisle one. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" The man smirks, revealing a set of dimples, and the smaller boy blushes and looks down at his lap.

"Um, maybe." Louis whispers, wringing his fingers together nervously.

Soft fingers caress his chin and his head is lifted once again, "Oh really? 'Cause all I saw was an adorable little boy singing with four monkey stuffed animals, which was an adorable sight."

Louis swoons as he scrunches his nose and sniffles, pushing his glasses up on his face. "Really? Are the monkeys the same color as mine or different? Because I want all the colored stuffies to take home to my other stuffies."

The nameless man laughs and stands up, holding his hands out to Louis. The younger lad graciously gathers his stuffies in his arms; Freddie, Pepper, Bonnie, and Gayle, then places his tiny hand in the man's bigger one. He pulls Louis up to his feet.

"I was talking about you, silly."

"Oh." Louis unconsciously turns his feet to face each other, making a little V. This stranger is very charming, he bites his lip and achoo!

Big hands encase his shoulders and steady him as if he was a tilting building and the man didn't want him to fall. "Woah there, bud. How can a little man like you sneeze so hard?"

Louis sneezes again, this one sounding and looking like a sneezing kitten. "Aw! That's adorable, but are you sick?"

Sneezing for a third time, Louis nods his head and wipes his nose with his sleeve. "Yeah. Would you mind telling me where the tummy flu sickness aisle is?"

Louis' lavender colored sweater was slipping down his shoulder, revealing his milky skin and sharp collarbones. His cheeks are tinted pink, glasses slipping down his equally pink nose, fringe hanging over his forehead. If Harry stared hard enough he'd be able to be the little bit of snot draining from Louis' nose. But snot and all, this boy is the most divine person he has ever laid his eyes on.

"Not at all. Those are in aisles 12 and 13. Follow me."

"So you're telling me that you have two aisles full of medicines but none of them will cure my hiccups?"

After formal introductions ("By the way, I'm Harry, and you are?", "Shaved. You can borrow one of my razors if you need it.", "Ha! Oh, you've got jokes, huh?", "Just kidding, Harry. 'M name's Louis."), the two made their way to the medical aisles. Louis grabs everything listed in the notes on his phone. He bought four different bags of different flavored cough suckers and some tummy pain relievers. Harry's job was to carry the sick lad's stuffies, with care, as he filled the red hand basket with enough medicine to start his own pharmacy.

Harry rolls his eyes fondly, "Sadly, no. There's no medicine that can cure your hiccups."

"What a rip off!" Louis huffs, swinging the basket in the air in disbelief.

"But hey, look on the bright side. Now everyone can have the pleasure of hearing your cute little hiccups."

"That's not," he hiccups, "funny."

Harry laughs and it's just like the way he talks. Rich and slow and deep. It reminds Louis of the syrup he pours on his pancakes on the scarce occasions that Zayn let's Liam come over and cook breakfast. Slow and sweet and delicious. Louis wants to capture it in a little tape and some how turn that tape into a record. If he could, he'd then buy a record player and play the record of Harry's voice over and over and overoverover again.

Harry's voice was just that good.

The pair walk to the registers, taking the one beside the cute blonde boy. He smirks at Harry and sends him a wink as Louis is loading all his stuffies and medicine in alphabetical order on the counter top.

The older lad logs onto the register screen, "Will that be all sir?"

"Yes. Wait, no. Hold on!"

Before Harry could say anything else, Louis was rushing back between the plethora of aisles. He couldn't believe he forgot the most important thing written on his list in all caps. That's how important it is. Pulling the large fridge open, goosebumps arise across Louis' soft skin. Not that he notices. He's too busy grabbing every bottle of strawberry milk he sees.

Once his arms are full of, what he assumes are, a hundred bottles of strawberry milk bottles, he trots back to the register. He takes the time to look both ways before he crosses the aisles, getting hit by a cart would be tragic.

"Okay, now I'm ready," Louis sits the bottles on the counter, face pink in exhaustion.

Harry scans the three bottles, in Louis' defense they were quite large, and adds them to his previous purchases.

"Alright. Is that all?"

"Yes!" Louis nods, "I think."

After Harry convinces Louis that he did buy everything he needed and Louis persuades Harry that they need to exchange numbers ("Just in case one of my stuffies breaks or rips or stops working I know who to call."), the short lad is walking back home with two bags of stuff, four new stuffies, and a new phone number in his contact list. Contact number 7, Harry from the pharmacy.